The door slides open just under halfway before becoming jammed on something. Blood almost immediately assumes that something has to do with the putrid, silvery oozing goo that instantly comes slopping out of the opening along with a smell that is a galactic level abuse to his olfactory systems.
Attention focused on keeping his boots free of the disturbing ooze, Blood doesn't register the odd thrumming sound until it is to late. The winged, softbodied, multi-tentacled creature swarms through the open door and immediately attempts to attach itself to Blood's head and face while multiple dangling feeder shots jab themselves into his warm juicy flesh.
More thrumming sounds coming from the other side of the door can be heard by Achooie and Myron, thanks to the muffling of Blood's screams by the creature currently smothering his face.
Blood staggered back from the doorway, shouting (muffled) for help from his trusty crew. He tried to wedge his gun up in front of his face to fend off the creature.
Once Blood shoots himself in the face I'll try to notice his struggles and pry the thing off.
Having not had a drink for several hours, Blood shaky, jumpiness pays off. Showing the quick reflexes he'd had prior to Macho Grande, the captain brings his pistol up in a defensive move that keeps the squirming tentacles from driving their piercing tip into every orifice of his head. In fact, he then pushes out and manages to jam the squirming creature up against the wall, pistol barrel conveniently placed right over the things crusty midsection.
Meanwhile, Achooie, happens to notice several odd, translucent globs the size of marbles clinging to the front of the captain's vaccsuit.
"Great Darwin's Testicles!" Myron leaps to the door's control panel, "What the hell is this stuff!? He attempts to get the door to shut.
"Does ANYONE know what the hell this thing is?" Blood shouted, still pinning the thing.
If he has a chance, he'll pull out his comm unit and take a photo of the creature one handed.
If it squirms free, or attacks him successfully, he'll put three shots into it with his little pulse pistol.
He will otherwise hold it pinned for the others to see.
Blood starts to reach for his comm unit, thinking now is a good time to take a snap of this for posting to his Galactagram account. Unfortunately, Blood's hold is a bit more precarious than he'd thought. The creature slips free just as Blood squeezes the trigger. Instead of a satisfying spray of bug guts, Blood is rewarded with the usual circular blast pattern marking the wall.
"BLEEAAAACCCC!" Screeches the creature. And launches itself back toward Blood's ripe cranium.
Meanwhile further screeches and eerie bone tingling scratches can be heard from through the doorway. Not wanting to the corridor flooded with whatever vermin these happen to be, Myron manages to quickly reroute the power system and slaps his hand across the operating panel. The door slides closed just in time to slice another one of the creatures in half as it emerged through the silvery goo. For a few seconds it twists and screeches on the floor before finally realizing it's body was no longer capable of supporting life.
I join them but the fun is over!
Blood tried to dodge and roll away from the critter's attack and fired back at it.
I also shoot at the beast w3ith my sidearm.
Sidearm
Blood again keeps the creature from jabbing any of its prodding probes into the soft, sensitive areas of his face. He desperately fires at the thing and although it is rather close range, manages to miss. This is because alien thing screeches and skitters faster than one might think possible, up Captain Blood's face and over his head. Thus the captain's blast blackens another spot upon the corridor wall.
At that very moment, things looked grim for the shipless captain.
*BLEAAC* The alien thing squawks triumphantly where it clings to the back of the captain's head and neck. Only to suddenly burst apart as Achooie's pistol perforates the things outer shell in multiple places with a series of precision shots. The thing drops to the floor dead, but not before draining several ounces of its gooey, pale yellow-orange innards into the Blood's hair and down the open neck of his vacc suit.
Anyone know Medicine? Should we wait for an alien? Or is it just disgusting?
?
Achooie takes a quick look at the alien innards oozing down Blood's neck and although he isn't trained in the medical arts, the big gormelite is pretty certain the stuff isn't really dangerous. It does smell pretty awful. And it's a bit too soon to tell, but another side effect does seem to be the dying of the back section of the Captain's hair the same sickly, putrid orange color as the guts themselves. Although not particularly attractive and potentially highly allergenic, it does make him easier to find and follow in these dimly lit corridors.
Lucky for Blood hookers don't care about hair color.
Ok any further doors or do we go back to the intersection and try that door.
" Oh, No nononono! No! I know how this ends, Game over, Man!" Myron backs up against the wall. " they said there was only a 1 in 10 chance of getting killed by an alien face-hugger, they lied!!" He uses the Walking Library stunt to identify these things:
"Gah!" Blood swore when Achooies blaster blew the thing off his head. Standing up again he tried to scrape the gelatinous remains off the back of his head and back.
He glared at Achooie.
"Cut that kinda close didn't ya?" He gritted out.
Game over, Man!
Blood reached over and patted Myron on the back, coincidentally leaving the bulk of the gelatinous remains on his back.
"It's OK man, we'll just... bypass this door for now. Let's just look further down this corridor." He said, and suiting action to words started walking cautiously down it.
Myron wisely used the time spent waiting for Captain Blood to undergo his medical treatment back on station to update his hand comp with the latest Imperium Galactica. The free encyclopedia that contains "All the useful information any traveler might need to know on every system from the Spinward Marches to the Imperial Core." It takes a few moments for the uneasy tech to input the various search parameters. A few more moments for the little comp to search through several hundred terrabytes of data. And still another few moments to scroll through all the various inaccurate results and annoying Fizzy Drink ads (Because There Is No Free Lunch). Finally Myron's eyes alight as a picture appears on his comp that exactly matches the severed remains leaking onto the corridor floor.
Some research indicates this waste product is highly effective at breaking down radioactive materials. It is unclear exactly how this process occurs, but studies have shown that an entire ton of standard uranium-235 can be made completely inert within a single weeks exposure to the substance.
This initial discovery, led to early industrial applications in clean up of highly radioactive regions following orbital bombardments, power generation accidents, or solar disasters. Unfortunately, the rapid spread and devastation caused by the Suckers themselves often resulted in worsening conditions beyond the original problem. The commercial sale and use of the creatures was soon stopped but not before they had contaminated several systems within and around the Empire.
In their native environment, they are the favorite food of the native Koosbainian Fazoob, who prefer the creatures sauted in butter and a spicy garlic sauce.
Warning! The Koosbanian Silvered Sucker is considered an invasive pest in systems across the Empire. Transport of the creatures has been banned within Imperial boundaries by several administrative branches of the Imperial Government including the Imperial Stellar Transportation Agency, the Interstellar Import Export Authority, and the Imperial Customs and Border Authority. In addition, most insurers will not cover ships known to have carried or been infected with the Koosbanian Silvered Sucker.
Warning! Koosbanian Silvered Suckers are toxic when ingested by most humanoids or those with human based DNA sequences. In addition, Silvered Suckers are quite territorial and will aggressively attack anything that comes into close proximity to their ooze lined nests. All precautions should be taken if encountering the creatures and any contact should be followed with a complete Level 5 Decontamination Sweep.
While Myron scrolls through the info on his hand comp, casually wiping at the oozey goo passed on to him by Captain Blood, said captain skulks up with corridor. As he comes to the end and peers back and forth, his vision goes momentarily blurry, probably do to hunger since it has been more than a few hours since he's eaten anything. Briefly rubbing his eyes, he looks again up and down the intersecting corridor. To the left another corridor stretches along and opens into a larger area. Arrows and signs on the wall label the area [i]Archeological Dig Site A. To the right a shorter corridor labeled Command. The door at the end is a simple Utility closet containing a bucket, mop, several gallon jugs of cleaning solvent, sponges, and other mundane janitorial supplies.
Pistol still drawn I take the 6.
[dice=Notice 4d3-8+1[/dice]
At the intersection, Blood briefly looked at the utility closet and wondered if he should use the cleaning solutions on the muck coating his.
Nah, he thought, I'll just wait until I can find the fresher unit.
Quickly deciding, he turned towards the corridor marked "Command".
At the door there, he listened for whatever might be making noise.
Achooie gives the thumbs up as he watches back down the corridor from where you've recently passed. All clear, definitely nothing coming up from this direction.
Confident in the gormelite's keen eyes and militarily trained powers of observation, Captain Blood moves on. Quietly slipping down the corridor toward the Command section, the Captain approaches the final door at that end of the short corridor. Placing his ear close to the door, he's hear a variety of beeping alarms and alert notices. A static shrouded radio adds to the cacophony.
"Blast it! I told you to get that thing shut off!" A voice suddenly shouts angrily.
"I'm telling you we can't! We've tried a hundred times! A second voice. Pleading. Afraid. Desperate.
"Well you better trying again or else what use are you to me."
"No! No! Don't."
The final desperate shout is followed by the high pitched hum of a charging blaster.
I ready my blaster.
Guys we need those blasters but more importantly, we need a charger.
Myron still scrolling, shuffles alone behind, " Hey, Skipper? we gotta check you for eggs!"
He bumps into Archooie, thinks foe a bit then turns and jogs back to get the Bag and the took kit, he dropped. "Maybe we can use one of these cordless tool chargers?"
Alarmed, Blood shouldered his way through the door and shouted "NOBODY MOVE OR THE GORMELITE GETS IT!" while waiving his pulse pistol around.
He paused, and with a perfectly even tone asked, "Prophet? Myron. Why did you say... 'eggs'?"
Do what he say! Do what he say! He's crazy!
The old Blazing Saddles routine. Gets them every time!
Myron looks back at the pad, "Uh, yea. Says here that the thing that tried to suck 'yer face was a Koosbanian Slivered Sucker. Deadly as f@&#. Lays eggs, eat you from the inside out,hatch in about 6 standard hours." he puts down the handcomp, "Archie? will this one fit your blaster? " he pulls out a cord with some obscure connector on the end of it.
Blood bursts through the door shouting and waving his pistol about. The room itself looks to be a pretty standard Type II Outpost Command Module. Containing a half dozen consoles linked to a variety of systems including life support, communications, engineering, and of course defense. Currently, a pair of panicked technicians cower within the belligerent shadow of a massive, black maned, silver suited, Aslani holding a short-nosed, twin barrelled, plasma rifle which goes a long way in explaining where some of the damage you've encountered may have come from.
The lion-like alien spins around a look of pure menace in his eyes. A heartbeat slower than he eye, the plasma gun swings into place, the glowing violet openings at the end of both barrels reflected in Captain's Bloods own wild gaze.
The only thing that prevents Blood's sudden and likely terminal disintegration from the waist up, is the appearance of Achooie, standing slightly offset from Blood, and pointing the scavenged blaster directly at the Aslani's forehead.
"What!? By the Glorious Ancestors, who the blazes are you?" The Aslan roars. "Drop your weapons or I'll vaporize you both."
The pair of technicians working the console labeled Science Command, sit white-faced and shaking, hands high in the air. Behind them a screen is split into four panels. One is black with nothing but a flashing cursor in the upper right corner. The three others show three very different scenes. One, lower right, is a blurry silvery image as if the lens is covered with rain or some other foreign substance. The title overhead reads Lab Storage B and red warning letters blink constantly Containment Breach! Lockdown Initiated!
The upper left is labeled Archeological Site A, and shows a wide cavern like opening where a quartet of armed fighters dressed in silver suits similar to the one worn by the Aslan are locked in a firefight with a pair of heavy security bots. In the few moments watching the scene, one of the Aslani fighters is inundated with flashes of blaster fire. The fighter spins around multiple times, her body pierced in a half dozen different places, and falls to the ground.
The lower left is screen is labeled Archeological Site B. A static, quiet scene that is the reason for your being here. Gleaming in the dim emergency lighting is the sleek metallic nose of the old Imperial Privateer. Although the camera only shows a tiny section of the ship, it is something to behold. Although several hundred years old, it looks as if it just came off the assembly line. Ready and able to fly at a moments notice. Until the image sudden blurs as something bulky passes in front of the camera. Moments later the picture clears revealing another massive security bot circling around the ship, a half dozen weapon ports armed and operational.
Surprisingly, one of the technicians eyes even wider as they stare at Captain Blood. Already backed up against the console, the man seemingly tries to meld with the metal in an effort to put as much distance between himself an the glaring captain as possible.
"D...d...did he say something about...eggs?" The man stutters with fright.
Meanwhile Myron pokes his head up near Achooie's gun arm to get a closer look at the charging slot to compare it with the charger grabbed from the toolkit. Unfortunately, the Type 35.15.A Imperial Systems XC charger doesn't directly fit the Hard Hitter Type 98-5-AX-R power module, Myron does recall seeing a standard power adapter set in the same toolkit. Perhaps luck will strike and the kit will contain the latest Acme Systems Universal, All Around, Type 42 charging adapter.
Myron spends a fate point:
Pulls a cord with a plug out of the bag. "Her ya are, Arch" he thrusts it toward the Gromilite, seems to notice the Aslani Warrior for the first time, faces him full-on, and lets loose a string of guttural hisses, growls, and chirps, that hopefully translate to "Greetings Brother, These men are with me. We are but lowly surveyors, sent to investigate what goes on this this place."
'Nother fate point.
He makes a fist, and bumps it to his chest. looks down.
"Forgive us this trespass."
The Aslani's golden eyes grow wide with surprise as Myron speaks to him fluidly in his native tongue. He lowers the double barreled plasma gun, his face contorting into first puzzlement and then something all too common across the galactic plane regardless of race or technology, frustration and irritation with ones superiors.
"An undercover survey team?" The Aslani growls back to Myron, whose time spent listening to those Learn Aslani While You Sleep tapes has really, really paid off, despite the captain's obvious dismissal as them being just a big scam. "Why by the Nine didn't Command tell us they had a second unit on the ground. Blasted canine grade morons, I was about to vaporize your entire team."
His eyes glance at the burly gormelite and sticky human. "Odd disguises for a place like this, but I'm sure Command knows best, am-I-right." He adds the last with a knowing nudge and wink to Myron.
He turns back to the console and points to the various screens and frowns as yet another indicator bar for one of his team appears to go black.
"Curses!" He turns back to Myron. "Since you've clearly been here longer, have you found a way past those feral security drones? The cursed things are ripping my squad apart.
To Achooie and Blood all of this is just a series of hisses, growls, drawn out scraggly groans punctuated by the occasional throat grumble.
Blood, feeling relieved at not having to deal with the wrong end of a plasgun, relaxed somewhat.
He still didn't know what was being spoken though, and he felt a bit of a time crunch.
"So I can leave this to you Myron? I feel the need to bathe in the industrial solvent back in the closet down the hall." Blood muttered quietly.
Myron nods, and cuts his eyes back down the hallway, hopefully with the "clear-out-and-lemme-b@**&!~+-this-guy" look.
he steps into the room, and moves up close to the screen. "We haven't been able to get a proper layout of the place, wherever we go we get attacked by these Koobashian Terrors." Myron looks at the screens, trying to glean any info about Archeological Site B. like where it is, how to get there, anything.
"Haven't made it down there, yet. We were going to try and find the nearest comm relay . . . down there, and tap into it, try to jam the bots' com arrays."
The Aslani nods with understanding when Myron mentions the constant barriers and alien dangers. "Yes, the place is a regular rat's nest of illegal alien specimens and research. If your team has been exposed to anything, probably best to just shoot them now and not deal with the headaches later."
Myron, being too busy memorizing the diagrams and readouts on the consoles, barely catches the aliens harsh comments and obvious window into his leadership style. But he is drawn back into the moment when the big warrior nods in agreement with the mentioned plan.
"It's worth a try." He says and begins tapping away at the console oblivious to the whimpering researcher trapped just beneath his massive jaws. "Here." He says pulling up a full station schematic. "We're here. The closest internal comm point looks to be here." A clawed finger scratches the screen as he traces a route to a point directly adjacent to the location marked as Archeological Site B.
"I'll pull my crew back and give you a chance." He then give Myron a pointed look, one ground-pounder to another. "But you've only got thirty minutes to get in. That's the rest of the time my teams been allotted. If we can't get in by then, my orders are to get clear and set off the nuke." Startled gasps burst from the researchers. The Aslani ignores them completely, turning his gaze back to the screens. "There's no way the higher ups are going to let this petty, mad king get his hands on an Imperial class warship of any size. If we don't leave here with it, no one does."
"Pull back...repeat...all units pull back to the following sectors..." He continues to relay orders to his squad still ignoring the gibbering pleas from the two prisoners.
"30 minutes" He nods, takes one last look at the displays, "What is the nukes yield? and where are you placing it, in case we have to . . . find another way out?"
The aslani turns to Myron and shrugs with the casual attitude of someone who has little concern for such things. "I've no idea. Supply said it would get the job done with plenty of power to spare." He growls his eyes starting to grow a bit more suspicious at so many questions from one who is supposed to have their own duties to the Empire to perform.
Still he waves a hand casually at the screen and grins like a wildcat. "I've no idea!" He says laughing. "I ordered my second to plant the thing where she saw fit and where it'll do the most damage to that ship. She's good at her job, I expect it'll be there somewhere and will be quite effective."
His hand starts to slip back toward his plasma gun. "Now what unit did you say you were with again?"
Despite the growing urgency to get the "egg" slurry off his body, the moment had come to act and maybe save themselves and the researchers.
"Well, didn't I say?" He said, pulling his pulse pistol up and firing into the aslani.
Anticipating a need for hard cover, he quickly glanced about for appropriate places.
To some it may come as little surprise that the Aslani moves with cat-like reflexes that have him ducking clear of Blood's rushed and ill-fated attempt to get the drop on the big alien commando. But it isn't so much the alien's fast moves that allow him to duck clear and bring his own weapon to bare. It is the fact that Blood's gun sticks in the holster for an extra couple of heartbeats due to a large quantity of sticky eggs gooped around the gun. By the time he finally pulls it free, the Aslani is moving. The sharp pew-pew-pew of the laser pistol echoes through the room. It is shortly followed by the ominous hum of the charging plasma pistol. The furious noise like a banshee screaming imminent death.
Belatedly realizing his potential mistake, Blood looks around for the biggest piece of cover he can find. Unfortunately, all he spots is the wide, fur covered body of Achooie. Who, having flown with Blood for a while now, quickly gives the captain a Don't You Even Bloody Well Think It! look.
Unconcerned about the potential disagreement between the two shipmates, the Aslani opens fire on Blood.
"Blasted spies! I'll see you dead!" He growls as the plasma pistol unleashes it's fury.
Without a femtoseconds hesitation, Blood ducks behind Achooie for cover from the Aslan.
"You got this big guy!" He said.
to get out of the line of fire.
Then he popped out on the other side of Achooie to fire at the Aslan again with his pulse pistol.
Myron tries to find cover behind the behind the console levels his pistol, hoping for a cross-fire, opens fire on the Aslani
The Fortune Seekers back home had always said he was born under the sign of the Warrior Receiving Luck's Blessing. Such a auspicious occurrence is quite rare as Luck and the Warrior are rarely in such positive conjunction. Thus they told him he would often succeed in battle. Bunk and superstition! Is what the big Aslani warrior typically thought of his homeworld's religious leanings. A warrior survived by being the quickest, the most ruthless, the most cunning. Such were his true beliefs up until the egg covered human spy opened fire on him in the small command room.
But as Blood's second hurried shot shatters several console screens behind him even as the Aslani twists aside he can't help but wonder. Maybe there is something to the Fortune Seekers beliefs? This as he drags one of the shocked and screaming researchers in front of him to take the brunt of Myron's pistol shot. Maybe they aren't just a bunch of fat cats spouting platitudes and living off of others hard work. He ponders as he tosses the body of the dying researcher toward Achooie who is still reeling from absorbing much of the previous blast meant for the captain. The Aslani warrior pivots and steps forward right behind the tossed body to slam a fist into Blood. The first step in clearing a path past the captain and into the hallway.
Blood tries to duck away, but the Aslani is fast. And strong. There's a loud crack as the aliens armored fist catches the captain square in the face. Blood's head snaps backward and his body goes reeling against the doorway and out into the hall.
Stumbling backward through the doors, Blood is nearly blinded by the pain in his jaw. Seeing the open closet, he had an idea.
Rolling into cover there, he grabbed the most corrosive jug of cleaning solution, turned around and hurled it at the Aslani.
When it reached the Aslan, he used his pulse pistol to blow it open.